A Tendency to Wander
by Tanya Takaishi
Summary: An account of Pippin's adventures as he faces the reality of what it means to be a Took. Ch. 2 - After the Battle of Bywater, Pippin and Merry reflect on the death of hobbits and Pippin learns Frodo's reason for hope.
1. Return to the Smials

Author's Notes: This is my first Lord of the Rings fanfic. It was inspired by the following quote, but ended up really having nothing to do with it. ;  I, of course, give all credit to Tolkein and his genius for the creation of his wonderful works and for the inspiration it gives to all us writers. J I also do not plan on keeping the title of this story. As it progresses, I might come up with a more fitting title, but if anyone has an idea, please please let me know! I used "A Tendency to Wander" because I believe Tolkein used the word peregrine (meaning: having a tendency to wander) for Peregrin Took. It describes him perfectly. Thanks for reading!

_"When the dark shadow at the Gate withdrew Gandalf sat still and motionless. But Pippin rose to his feet as if a great weight had been lifted from him; and he stood listening to the horns, and it seemed to him that they would break his heart with joy. And never in after years could he hear a horn blown in the distance without tears starting in his eyes."_ J.R.R. Tolkein

A Tendency to Wander 

_" 'There you are, Frodo!' said Merry. 'I knew we would have to fight. Well, they started the killing.'_

_'Not exactly,' said Cotton. 'Leastways not the shooting. Tooks started that. You see, your dad, Mr. Peregrin, he's never had no truck with this Lotho, not from the beginning: said that if anyone was going to play the chief at this time of day, it would be the right Thain for the Shire and no upstart. And when Lotho sent his Men they got no change out of him. Tooks are lucky, they've got those deep holes in the Great Hills, the Great Smials and all, and the ruffians can't come at 'em; and they won't let the ruffians come on their land. If they do, Tooks hunt 'em. Tooks shot three for prowling and robbing. After that the ruffians turned nastier. And they keep a pretty close watch on Tookland. No one gets in nor out of it now.'_

_'Good for the Tooks!' cried Pippin. 'But someone is going to get in again, now. I am off to the Smials. Anyone coming with me to Tuckborough?'_

_Pippin rode off with half a dozen lads on ponies. 'See you soon!' he cried. 'It's only fourteen miles or so over the fields. I'll bring you back an army of Tooks in the morning.' Merry blew a horn-call after them as they rode off into the gathering night. The people cheered. "_ J.R.R. Tolkein.

Pippin held tightly to the reins of his pony, gripping the soft leather in his hands. He dug his heels into the pony's sides and felt a jolt in his chest as it sped off. The deep call of Rohan sounded from Merry's horn. Pippin blinked back a row of tears that pricked mercilessly at his eyelids. He remembered Gondor and Faramir, the pyre – He remembered the joy of the Rohirrim's call. As the lads' ponies measured up to his pace, he smiled and a solitary tear slipped down his cheek – he remembered hope.

It was dark by the time the travelers reached Tookland. Each hobbit held a torch firmly in his hand, only dimly lighting the deep woods that surrounded the border of the rolling land. The ponies had slowed their pace and the sounds of their hooves were all that seemed to fill the deep silence.

 Only Pippin heard the cracking of branches to the group's right. He gripped his sword tightly just as a man and half-orc jumped from the wood into their path. The ponies startled and whinnied, one throwing a hobbit from its back.

"Look here, we've got a few halflings trying to get past the borders." The half-orc murmured. His voice sounded like something was stuck in his throat.

The man laughed, revealing a row of crooked teeth.

Pippin pulled the sword of Westernesse from its sheath, brandishing it before the ruffians. "We will get through to Tookland. I will use this if I must. I have stuck a troll larger than four of you and am not unwilling to do it again."

There was power in Pippin's voice that the ruffians had never heard from a hobbit before. The man backed up, having no sword of his own, and looked ready to flee, though the half-orc stood his ground. The other hobbit lads were rejuvenated by the courage of Pippin and pulled their own daggers and stones.

At this, the half-orc stepped back and the two ruffians retreated into the wood. Pippin returned his sword to his belt and laughed. "If all these ruffians are that weary of hobbits with swords, we'll have this battle won by sundown tomorrow!" He exclaimed before jumping from his pony to assist the fallen hobbit.

Roderic smiled warily as Pippin helped him from the ground. "Surely we will, with you standing with us. You've grown, Mr. Pippin, since last I've seen you. Not just in height, but in arms and courage, sir." Rod said softly as he brushed the dust from his trousers.

"Some folk have talked poorly of Tooks and their adventuring. Say it's not proper for a hobbit to go about, 'specially not to come home bearing arms such as yourself. No harm meaning, sir." He paused, afraid he might have insulted the future Thain.

Pippin remained silent, so he continued. "But I say you've come right with that sword. We need folks like you in these dark times."

Pippin could only nod in response as Rod remounted his pony. He turned to his own pony and the travelers continued their journey. Dark times these were for the Shire. Though to Pippin, they did not seem all that dark. Not like standing before the Black Gate of Mordor without his kin, standing with men, elves, wizards, and dwarfs – feeling so small and incapable, knowing that he had lost Frodo and Sam and that Merry would die soon after. He had faced the end of Middle Earth. Now he was home, and looked down into his kinsmen's eyes- thankful. The Shire was saved before this rebellion, but no one knew.

Pippin was pulled from his thoughts as a hobbit, only just of age, stepped in their path. His hands quivered upon a bow and arrow he had aimed at Bodo Noakes, a Bywater-lad who had been at the head of the group.

The archer squinted through the darkness. "What business have you here? If you have words from the Ruffians, you better to go back where you came from." He said sternly, though his shaking hands betrayed the calm of his voice.

Pippin recognized the Took immediately. His light brown hair, hazel eyes with a hint of Tookish green, and round belly gave him away, for most Tooks were leaner than the average hobbit.

"Cousin Ferdi! Don't you recognize a fellow Took when you see one?" Pippin laughed.

Ferdibrand Took's eyes widened and he lowered his bow, much to Bodo's relief. "Why Pippin! Bullroarer's blood has not run thin yet! You must be two heads taller than me now, and still just a tween!" His eyes lit up as Pippin jumped from his pony and the cousins embraced. Ferdibrand released him and breathed in a sigh of relief. "I thought surely that you lads were carrying out orders from Lotho and his ruffians to make it past our borders. They've kept us locked snuggly since old Ferdinand and I took out a few. Though I had yet to raise my bow to a hobbit." He looked apologetically at Bodo, who nodded in forgiveness.

Pippin shook his head. "The Ruffians have their hands full now- we've started a rebellion. It seems that they're not keen on hobbits with swords." He patted the sword of Westernesse tucked by is side. "That's why we're here. We need a few good Tooks to help put the Shire back in the hands of hobbits."

"Its about time, Cousin! I'll alert some of our archers. Your father has been in an uproar. He's in an upright fit about Pimple's chief hood.'" The light in Ferdibrand's eyes dimmed slightly. "Good Paladin hasn't given up on you yet, Pip, but your mother has lost hope for your return. Many thought you and your companions had perished in the Old Forest after our poor cousin Fatty's stories. She began mourning soon after she heard the news.  Hasn't been the same since." He said softly.

Pippin's eyes filled with fresh tears. His poor Mum, she was always sensitive and more realistic than his father. Her hobbit-sense wouldn't have let her hold on to hope for long. His parents must have taken the news of his 'death' hard. The heir to the Thain lost, their only son. He felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't even let them know he was leaving.

The tears slowly seceded. He did not regret following Frodo or all that he had done in the War. If the quest had failed the Shire would have much worse than ruffians to deal with. Many more families would morn the deaths of their sons. And he was home at last.

His heart filled with new resolve and he spoke quickly to his comrades, "Three of you go with Ferdi and gather all lads who are willing. Meet me here by six tomorrow. The rest of you can accompany me to the Great Smials. I'm sure our Thain will have all of Tookland armed when he hears news of our resistance." With that, the lads split in two while Pippin bade farewell to his cousin and made way to Tuckborough.

* * *

Eglantine Took woke abruptly to a pounding on the door of the Great Smials. Though it was a distance from her bedroom, her acute hearing picked up the commotion that began to ensue within the main hall. Mothering four children had made her sensitive to the smallest noise. She grabbed her husband's arm tightly.

"Paladin… Paladin…" She whispered anxiously.

The Thain shifted, murmuring grumpily in his sleep. When he managed to lift his heavy eyelids, he saw his wife's panicked state and immediately became alert, sitting up. "What is it, love?"

"Something's going on in the hall." She said, still holding tightly to his forearm.

Paladin stiffened and released his wife's hold as he stood up and covered his nightshirt with a robe. "… Ruffians…" he growled, muttering a curse under his breath.

Under normal circumstances Eglantine would have chastised her husband for such words, being the down-to-earth, sensible hobbit that she was. She was a Banks after all, and her family knew better than to talk in such a way in the presence of a lass. Paladin never lost his Tookish ways, however, no matter how she scolded him. Each time she began her lecture, he would draw her up in his arms and smother her face in kisses, laughing as she yelled at him for not taking her seriously. In the end, she knew it was the Took in him she loved.

Now she could see anger burning in his bright emerald eyes. Paladin grabbed a small dagger from a dresser drawer.

"Paladin…" She choked, her voice quavering slightly.

As he wandered out their bedroom door, his eyes met hers in a stern gaze. "Stay here, Tiny."

She nodded, wishing for the feel of his fingers once more before he left, but he was gone.

Paladin made his way swiftly down the hall, his dagger held firmly in his hand. If those ruffians had come to the Great Smials, he would show them the way out… if they dared to come into his home – he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a sweep of long chestnut hair dart in front of him. The distinct sound of weeping filled the front hall and he heard murmuring from the servants.

"Pervinca!" Paladin said roughly to his youngest daughter. She didn't budge, but stared at the scene before her. She had too much Took in her, the stubborn lass.

"Back to your-" As his eyes lingered where Pervinca held her gaze, Paladin took a step backwards in shock.

There, before him, Pimpernel was weeping- clutching tightly to Pippin, his young Peregrin who now stood a head taller than he. Paladin sucked in a sharp breath.

Pippin's green eyes lifted from his weeping sister and met the Thain's. They were logged with tears, though a great smile lit his young face.

Paladin felt a tear fall from his eye, but he burst with joy, smiling more widely than he had in years. "Pippin, you scoundrel!"

At the sound of her father's voice, Pimpernel released Pippin and wiped her cheeks. Pippin squeezed her shoulder reassuringly before making his way to his father, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

Father and son stood fast together, neither daring to let go. The only sound in the hall was Pimpernel's soft sobs and Pervinca's shattered breaths.

"I never gave up on you, son." Paladin said softly, breaking the silence and pulling from the embrace, though he still held Pippin's arms. It astonished him that he had to look up into the tweenager's eyes. He chuckled as he got his first good look at Pippin's armor. "I knew you were just relieving the Took in you."

Pippin let out a hearty laugh and turned towards his youngest sister, extending one hand towards her. She rushed into his arms, followed by Pimpernel, who was always a bit emotional and wouldn't do without holding her little brother once again. "Its good to be home." He whispered.

"Pippin?" The shaky voice of Eglantine entered the hall. The family took a respectful step away from their youngest member and allowed his mother to scoop him into her arms while she wept. "I thought- Oh, my little Peregrin."

Pippin rubbed her back and chuckled. "Though not so little anymore, Mum. I'd say that you're going to have a fit trying to sew my clothes from now on."

Eglantine laughed through her tears and stood back to look at her towering boy. "I would say. Why you've grown like a weed! Though far too thin for a hobbit, just like your father!" She peered at his face and inspected him closely, reaching to trace a thin scar along his cheek. She began to sob again and held her son tightly. "What did that Brandybuck cousin of yours let you get into?"

Pippin was grateful when Pervinca suggested to their mother that they get something for him to eat and dragged her away to the kitchen. He was only glad she could not see the deep scars on his back and ribs from where both orcs and troll had left their marks.

Pimpernel breathed deeply, she had her mother's sensitivity, more Banks than Took. "Poor Pearl, she's been worried sick about you, brother, but I suppose she'll have to wait for the news of your return."

Pippin nodded. "Yes, until after all Pimple's nonsense is cleared." He turned to Paladin as Pimpernel joined her mother and sister in the kitchen. "About my return, Da, my cousins and I are quite disturbed by the state of the Shire since our departure. Though, I must say, I'm glad to hear that you've kept Tookland in right order. I'm here to ask for the assistance of the Tooks in our resistance in Bywater. I've promised an army of them." He said seriously.

Paladin grasped the shoulder of his son and laughed heartily. "Why Pippin, I'll give you an army the size of the Shire to put ol' Lotho in his place! Chief indeed!"

Pippin nodded with a small smile. "I'd like to start straight away, Merry is counting on me to be back near day break. Send some lads to carry out the orders, I'll collect the rest." His face darkened as he pulled up the hood of his Elvish cloak. "I'll be home again at the end of this, Da. I won't stand to see the Shire raped by greed. Not after all we've gone through."

Just as Pippin moved to leave, his mother entered the hall, followed by his sisters carrying trays of crumpets and tea. Her eyes widened at the sight of her son standing at the door of their home. "Peregrin Took! If you go out that door again, and without a crumpet, so help me!" She said angrily, though she choked on her words.

He smiled softly and grabbed a crumpet off her tray, kissing her on the cheek. "I'll be home soon, Mum." With that, he stepped back through the door to the Great Smials and left home.

Eglantine sniffed loudly, tears welling in her eyes. "That boy and all his Tookish nonsense!" She cried.

Paladin put a reassuring arm around her shoulders. "He's a free spirit, Tiny." He said softly, watching his son retreat to the stables. The silver embroidery of a tree shone brightly from his armor in the firelight. Paladin grinned, kissing his wife's brow. "And he has his mother's heart."

Behind them, Pervinca smiled.


	2. To hope

Author's Note: I've gone a bit sappy on this chapter, due to some music I was listening too. -- It happens quite often. But I did enjoy exploring Pippin's character, along with the other hobbits. Frodo, especially. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. And get some tissues ready. ;

**Chapter 2**

On the top of the hill, Peregrin Took sat alone, though crowds of hobbits moved around him. Only moments ago he had been toasted too and honored with rounds of ale, accepting them in good spirit. Tookland's archers had helped turn the tides against the ruffians.

Pippin chewed on the end of his pipe, puffing smoke through his clenched teeth. It was a nervous habit, something that Meriadoc Brandybuck could pick out in an instant. Merry stood behind him, watching his cousin, concerned with his change of mood.

He knew better than to ask Pippin what was bothering him. With Peregrin, the words would come spilling out on their own. Instead, he drew out his own pipe and joined the young Took. He blew smoke rings as Pippin's distorted clouds made their way into the night sky.

"Merry?" Pippin's voice was quiet and gentle in his Tookish accent.

Merry glanced at him, though Pippin's gaze seemed to be fixed upon the stars. "Yes, Pip?"

"I've never seen a hobbit killed before." Pippin said softly, though his voice cracked slightly.

Merry joined in gazing at the stars. "Nor have I."

The Battle of Bywater had claimed 19 lives; each hobbit had died bravely in their resistance against Saruman's purge of the Shire. Meriadoc and Peregrin had hunted the last remnant of the ruffians that evening and returned to Bywater to toast to the hobbits who had given their lives for their homes. Merry and Pippin were honored as their captains, receiving more ale than they were able to drink.

There was a moment of silence between the two, the dull roar of cheering hobbits honoring the dead and the clanking of mugs were the only sounds to fill their ears. It was a loud sniffle from Pippin that finally brought Merry's attention from his own thoughts.

There was a stream of tears flowing from Pippin's green eyes, bouncing off his Gondorian armor.

Merry felt his own eyes burn as he scooted closer to his cousin, gathering him in his arms. At this gesture, Pippin began to sob softly, finally turning to his cousin, burying his head in Merry's chest.

Under the stars, the knights of Rohan and Gondor wept for their kin.

* * *

The next morning Peregrin rapped softly on the door to the Cotton's home. Tom Cotton answered his knock, surprised at finding the young Took and future Thain at his doorstep.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Peregrin?" He asked with a smile, shaking Pippin's hand as he entered the doorway.

Pippin returned the smile. "I was hoping to speak with Frodo." As he stepped into the Cotton's home he noticed Sam and Rosie sitting beside one another at the breakfast table.

At the sound of Pippin's voice, Sam looked up, his cheeks flushing red. He sat up quickly and made his way towards him. "Hullo, Mr. Pippin. Is Mr. Merry with you?"

Pippin shook his head. "No, he's gone off with Estella Bolger."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Has he now?"

Pippin grinned. "Yes, to help bring poor old Fredegar home, though I must say that I don't know if Fatty's health is Merry's priority." He laughed.

Sam joined him. "I did see him eyeing a certain lass through most of the celebration last night."

Pippin chuckled, lowering his voice. "Though he's not the only one who I've seen eyeing a pretty lass." He said as he gestured towards Rose, who had gotten up to wash the morning's dishes.

Sam's face resembled a tomato as he stuttered over his words.

Peregrin changed the subject, having his fill of laughter from Sam's embarrassment. "How is Frodo? I was hoping to have a word with him before I returned to the Smials."

The red from Sam's face seceded. "Why, he's all right, Mr. Pippin. As good as he should be right now, I'd say. He's a little worn from everything. None of us expected to come home to this, but he's in good spirits now that the fightin' is over. I'll fetch him for you, he's been in his room writing." His eyes wandered to the kitchen, were Rosie glanced at him, before continuing. "Have a seat at the table. Rosie has a batch of fresh tarts you can snack on. " With that, Sam wandered down the hall.

Pippin sat at the breakfast table as Rose Cotton placed the pastry in front of him. She smiled, "Its not much, since the ruffians took most our supplies, but Mr. Frodo has told me that I make a wonderful tart."

Pippin took a bite of it and grinned. "Why Rosie, you make a finer tart than the best cook in the Great Smials."

She blushed and murmured a quick thank you before returning to her dishes.

Just as Pippin shoved the last bit of the snack into his mouth, Frodo entered the room. He smiled widely at Pippin, lifting the Took's spirits. Nothing was greater to see than Frodo's smile.

"Hullo Pippin!"

"Why hullo Cousin!" Pippin said cheerfully, though the words were muffled by his mouthful of food.

Frodo laughed. "It is good to be reminded of your age, Pip. I had forgotten that you are still a tween, _Ernil i Pheriannath_."

Pippin blushed at the title he had received by the people of Gondor, 'Prince of the Halfings' in their tongue. "I'll always be young, Frodo, no matter the titles or the number of years. Like dear Bilbo and you."

Frodo sat down just as Rosie made her way out of the kitchen, leaving the cousins alone. "I feel I'm getting older each day."

Pippin looked at him with concern. "Why, cousin, you're only 51! Bilbo was near 80 when he went on his first adventure!"

"And yours before 30. My dear Pip, you are so young and I am sorry you had to see so much so soon." Frodo said sadly.

Pippin gazed at Frodo in astonishment. "Some hobbits have never seen the things that I have, but I am honored to have walked beside you, Frodo, and to done and seen the things that I have done. Don't apologize. Merry would not have allowed you and Sam to go on this journey alone. Nor would I, or would I let Merry go without me. We love you, Frodo, and couldn't let you carry such a burden on your own." He exclaimed.

Frodo's eyes glimmered. "I could not have asked for better company."

Pippin grasped his cousin's hand, feeling the stub of his ring finger. "Thank you, Frodo."

Frodo's eyes widened at Pippin's hold on his damaged hand, a sign of his weakness. "You've saved us. I know that the Shire doesn't understand, but we do, cousin- Merry, Sam, and I. We know all you've done and we and all of Middle Earth will sing songs of you 'till the end of your days and long after."

A single tear slipped from Frodo's blue eyes, dropping onto the clasp of his and Pippin's hands.

Frodo's tear caused Pippin's eyes to sting. It seemed that he had been crying a lot lately, and he felt somewhat childish. "Frodo… I wanted to ask you something."

Frodo nodded.

"Why were you so kind to Saruman? After all he had done here? After the lives he took?" Pippin asked.

A shattered sigh escaped from Frodo's lips. "Because I pitied him, much like I pitied Gollum. And like with Gollum I had hope, hope that it was possible for someone who had once been good to find themselves again, to change."

Pippin shook his head. "But they didn't change, and I'm not sure if they ever would."

"But I had to hope, Pippin-lad. If I couldn't hope for them, then I cannot hope for myself." He said softly.

At this the tears that Pippin had been holding back flowed freely from his eyes and he moved from his chair, clutching Frodo, his hand still clasped with his. "I hope you find peace, Frodo."

"Don't worry, Pip." Frodo smiled through his tears. "I'm sure I will – and so will you."


End file.
